


Business Suits and Combat Boots

by equallydestructive (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Angst, Blood and Violence, Established Relationship, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mild Sexual Content, Perversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/equallydestructive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is an amateur detective with a hot boyfriend and/or partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business Suits and Combat Boots

He felt as though he was going to faint. The building loomed in front of him, casting an oddly-shaped shadow onto the ground. Zayn Malik was, to be blunt, scared shitless. He stared up at the ominous building and let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Come on, you can do this,” he said under his breath. He kept repeating the phrase as he made himself take the steps that led up the large double doors. There was something about this building that almost seemed to repel him and he wasn’t even sure if he should enter its premises in fear of not being able to leave.

The wind picked up, pulling at Zayn’s dark hair. He bit his lip and continued to worry it until he found himself at the doorway. He reached out to grasp the doorknob, and with a grunt, pulled it open. Dust and dirt from above the doorway spilled down, covering Zayn in it. He made a face of disgust and quickly brushed himself off. He glanced up to take in the room.

The furniture, most likely quite old, was covered with off-white colored sheets. He took a step in and when his foot sunk into the carpet, a cloud of dust rose up from it. Zayn inhaled, oblivious to the dust particles permeating the air, and he erupted into a coughing fit. Not wanting to suck in any more of the filthy air, he instead breathed through his nose; the smell of decay was rank.

As his coughing tapered off, he suddenly became aware of small, continuous bumps that he could hear from above his head. He felt his heart skip a beat. There’s someone else here, he thought. He tried to pinpoint where the noise came from and found that it came from up the stairs, most likely in a closed room. Zayn felt something pull at him, willing him to find out if someone was really in the house with him and he recognized this feeling as his inner detective, or as most would call it, reckless curiosity. His legs, instead of moving to the door like he had originally intended, were instead moving towards the stairs that lead to the upper level of the house.

He heard rustling, as if papers were being unfolded along with uneven footsteps thumping on the floor above him, matching the pace of his heartbeats. His inner detective fled in terror and he felt his limbs seize up. The only movement in the house was the rapid rising and falling of his chest.

_Shit._

More footsteps, closer to the stairs. His legs unfreeze as he turned his back on the stairs, wanting to get as far away as possible without making a sound.

More banging came from upstairs, much louder than before. He made it out the door and started to run as fast as he could down the gravel road, a slow smile of relief spreading across his face.

A large hand clapped on to his mouth, covering it and his nose. His eyes bulged out as his oxygen intake was cut off. He scratched at the fingers, struggling to pull them away, but the body that was connected to the hand was far too strong. A muscular arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him backwards, back towards the house. Just by the way his arm felt around him, he could tell that it was a man; a very large and very dangerous man. Zayn let out a scream, muffled by the man's hand, hoping that someone would hear him.

“Quiet,” a gruff voice growled. He attempted to look up at his kidnapper, but the man’s arm came back around from his waist and covered his eyes with what seemed to be a piece of cloth and then he wrapped his arm around Zayn again. His senses were going haywire.

“We can’t have you seeing me, now can we?”

Zayn’s body began to shake of its own accord. The oxygen he needed was being taken away from his and he knew that he would faint if he didn’t do anything soon. He rammed his elbow into the man’s gut and he grunted, but his hold on Zayn didn’t loosen, instead, it tightened. His body sagged from the lack of air and he lost consciousness.

\----

Zayn came to, his eyesight blurring. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings and it seemed as though he was lying on the floor. He let out a rattling cough and he covered his face with an arm; that was when he realised that he was naked from the waist up. His eyes shot open and he sat up, immediately pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. He somehow managed to get up, wobbling a bit as a feeling of dizziness made him nearly lose his balance. He looked around, scanning the area; he concluded that he was in the house that he had originally run from. He gulped down a sudden lump in his throat and he began to shake uncontrollably. He knew that he was going to have a panic attack. 

He needed to get out _now._

His eyelids fluttered closed as he took deep breaths, trying to calm himself so he could at least find the exit. Zayn opens his eyes and his heart jolts at the man standing in front of him with a rather perverse grin that almost looked like it was spreading from ear to ear. 

"Tsk tsk," the man tutted. He brought his arms out from behind his back and Zayn's gaze flicked to the thick rope that he held in his veined hands, "do you know what I'm going to do with this?" 

Zayn had been previously been froze to the spot upon spotting the man, but his entire body began to shake as the shock finally decided to wear off and he felt sick to his stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a small whimper came through. The man stood completely still as he waited for Zayn to react. Zayn's eyes searched around, fully aware that the other was scrutinizing every move he made. His eyes landed on the door behind the man and he cursed inwardly at how fucking stupid it was that he hadn't even noticed it. 

He went for it. 

The man caught him. 

Desperation was the main component in this ignorant decision, he concluded after being roughly bound up with multiple ropes. His wrists were tied together behind his back and there was another around his neck, almost too tight for him to swallow without it coming back up. He craned neck enough to warily watch the man walk back and forth in front of him, his hands curling and uncurling. 

“What are you planning on doing with me?” Zayn croaked from his place on the floor.

“I’m not sure yet,” the man said, still pacing. He abruptly stopped and spun around on the balls of his feet, now facing Zayn, and he bent down to Zayn’s level. “What do you want me to do with you?”

Zayn gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “Well, you could maybe let me go.”

The man guffawed loudly and Zayn flinched, frightened by the man’s crazed antics. After a few moments, his laughing ceased, but a smirk remained on his face. He brought a finger to Zayn’s chin and lifted it up. 

“You’re quite pretty, aren’t you, boy?” Zayn refused to look the man in the eye, instead focusing on the filthy floor he was being forced to sit on. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he took a pained gulp and his palms became clammy. The man’s gaze flitted down to where Zayn was chewing on his lip, now puffy and red, and the finger that was holding Zayn’s chin up began to trace the outline of his lips. “Beautiful,” the man growled, his pupils dilating. Zayn whimpered, shuddering in disgust at the man’s touch. He accidentally pulled at the ropes that bound his wrists together and he winced at the stinging pain that began to radiate from where the rope was chafing his skin. A wave of something close to fury swept over Zayn as the man’s finger left his lips and began a tingling path down Zayn’s chest.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he spat, trying to back away as much as he could. His back hit against something and he looked up to see that he had backed up against the wall. His eyes widened in terror as the man licked at his lips as he moved forward, crawling towards Zayn. It was as if Zayn hadn’t actually moved at all. Zayn’s hands curled into fists and his breath comes out quickly as his fingers brushed against something, something sharp. He leaned to the side and grasped at the sharp object, wincing as he felt it bite into his skin. He began to saw the rope with it.

“I like a fighter,” the man purred, his face mere inches from Zayn’s. Thinking fast, Zayn headbutt the man and a resounding crack echoed through the room as their heads collided. The man groaned and sat back, leaving himself wide open. Zayn, head throbbing, kicked out and somehow managed to nail him straight in the balls. The man wailed in agony as he curled up, holding his privates as Zayn cut himself completely free of his binds. His chest heaved from the force of his breathing as he stood up, his whole being quaking as he walked as steadily as he could towards the door. He glanced back to see the man still lying on the ground, and if it hadn’t been for the constant shiver running through his body, Zayn would have thought him dead. Zayn’s fingers still gripped the sharp object and by the warm, sticky liquid flowing down his forearm, he knew that he was bleeding and rather heavily by the look of it. He reached for the doorknob, wrenched the door open, and took a step outside, quickly shutting the door behind him. He took in a deep breath of the chilled air, the adrenaline rush he had beginning to dissipate as weariness finally begins to set in his limbs. 

He started to walk.

He barely made it more than half a mile before he collapsed onto the grass beside the road, exhausted beyond belief by everything that had happened. With one last spurt of strength, he yanks at the rope still surrounding his neck off and flings it aside. He closed his eyes and passed out in seconds.

\----

A pounding headache woke Zayn.

He attempted to sit up, but was met by the most intense pain he had ever felt. He blinked his eyes open again and looked down at himself and was shocked to see the bruises and cuts that decorated his legs. He brought his arms around to check them out as well and as he expected, they were also injured. He touched his face and he flinched when his fingers touched his cheek. He gently palpated his face and realized that the majority of it was swollen and he assumed that it was also bruised.

“Hello?” he said hoarsely, straining his neck to look around him. He knew that it was no use though; there was nobody around. He was in the middle of nowhere.

His pocket buzzed and he reached into it, pulling out his cell phone. He checked the caller ID and saw that it was his boyfriend, Liam.

“Zayn? Where are you?” he asked, panic evident. Zayn smiled slightly, automatically soothed by the sound of Liam’s voice.

“I don’t know, but something really bad happened. Just try and trace where this call is coming from because I have no idea where I am,” he said, scrubbing a dirty palm across his forehead.

“Babe, are you alright?” Liam paused, most likely waiting for Zayn’s answer, but thought otherwise when he said, “I’ll be right there, so just hold on.” He hung up.

Zayn flipped the phone closed and let his hand drop back down onto the ground, letting out a ragged breath. The pain was getting worse and he could feel it down to his very bones. Sirens sounded in the distance, though he had no idea if they were for him or someone else, but he had no time to think because he passed out once more.

\-- _One month later_ \--

“We’re going to find him, alright?” Liam repeated, fearing for Zayn’s sanity.

For the past month, his obsession with the past grew. He had to know who had done this to him. Though the bruises and cuts had faded over time, the scars were still there, both emotional and physical.

“I know, I know, but this has to happen sometime soon.” He was pacing the room, much like what the man had been doing and he kept curling his hands into fists. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. Liam looked up at him from his seat on the couch, eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m going back to that building,” he confirmed. Liam shook his head, having heard this more than once.

“You keep saying that, yet you still haven’t gone.”

Zayn shifted his gaze to him.

“I’m for sure going this time, though,” he said, heading into the kitchen, bringing out the keys to their shared car, “are you going to come with me?”

Liam’s lips pursed and he got up, going over to Zayn. “Yeah, let’s go.”

\----

The car rolled to a stop right in front. The building had not changed at all since the last time Zayn was there. He took a deep breath and got out of the car and started running to the door, intent on getting inside.

“Zayn, wait!” he heard Liam call out. He stopped and waited for Liam to catch up. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He nodded, and went to the door, grabbing the knob of the door. He walked inside, being sure not to breathe too deeply like he had foolishly done last time.

“There have to be clues around here somewhere,” he said absently. Having not explored the entire house before, he made a beeline towards the kitchen where more of the same white sheets covered the table and the chairs, though oddly enough there was no refrigerator. He dropped down to his hands and knees and looked underneath the table and saw a piece of paper sticking out from underneath one of the legs. He grabbed a hold of it and tried to pull it out, praying that it wouldn’t rip; luckily it didn’t. He sat back up on his feet and looked at the parchment. Liam had followed him into the kitchen and Zayn looked up at him.

“It seems to be some kind of receipt,” he told Liam. He held out his hand for it and Zayn gave it to him. The bottom of the paper had a messy signature written. “Niall Horan.” Zayn’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Hey, I recognize that name,” Liam said, gesturing for Zayn to hand him the paper.

“That’s because he used to uh, well, stalk me,” said Zayn nervously. Liam scrunched the receipt in his hand. “I bet that bastard is the one that did those things to you,” he growled. Zayn shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. _Oh no, here we go._

“Liam, I know where he is. We can go there and ask him about this.” 

Liam’s eyes widened. “You just want to go and ask a suspect of he did anything to you a month ago? That seems illogical and I highly doubt he’s going to tell us anything.”

Zayn just laughed. “I don’t know about that - where he is and what he’s doing, I’m sure he would be willing to tell us anything, but first-”

Zayn crawled onto Liam, straddling him and taking the other boy by surprise. “Zayn-mmph!” Liam’s words were cut off as Zayn fastened his lips onto Liam’s, his eyelids fluttering closed as Liam finally responded. His arms wrapped around Liam’s neck and Liam’s large hands planted themselves on Zayn’s hips. Liam began to knead Zayn’s skin as the kiss deepened, Zayn’s tongue slipping into Liam’s mouth. Zayn rocked himself and was thoroughly delighted to feel Liam’s rapidly growing hard-on underneath his arse. He broke the kiss and leaned back, smiling cheekily at Liam’s darkened gaze.

He let out a squeal when Liam surged off of the chair, throwing Zayn over his shoulder as he took off for the bedroom. 

_First things first,_ Zayn thought, hands scrabbling for a hold, grinning when he ended up with a handful of arse, _got to have some mind-blowing sex._

\----

The bar itself was in bad shape, but Zayn knew that Niall had to be here. After he had rejected him the first few dozen times, Niall had finally told Zayn to go fuck himself and that he would be at the bar. Since this was the only bar in the area, Zayn knew he had to be here. He got out of the car and didn’t bother waiting for Liam. He marched to the entrance of the dingy bar and stepped inside.

“Hey, here for a drink?” The usual bartender, named Louis from what Zayn had heard, greeted, squinting at him through dirty lenses. He was washing a mug with what looked like a dirty handkerchief. Zayn shivered.

“I’m looking for a Mr. Niall Horan,” he announced, making sure his voice projected across the entire room. He looked down the counter that the people were sitting at and saw someone at the very end freeze in place. He smirked.

“Looks like I found you,” he whispered. Niall got up, spilling his drink all over himself. Zayn heard an uttered “shit,” and Niall stumbled to the backdoor. Zayn turned around and noticed Liam in the corner, looking a little lost. He gesticulated for Liam to get to the backdoor where Niall was going and he nodded in response. He slipped out the front door and Zayn waited for Liam to capture Niall. He looked at his watch.

“3, 2, 1.”

A yelp rang out in the bar and nobody bothered to find out where it came from. He heard the back door bang closed so Zayn slipped out the front door and walked to the back of the bar. Liam had Niall by the arms.

“What the fuck do you guys want?” Niall slurred, clearly drunk.

Zayn walked back and forth in front of him and Niall’s glazed eyes followed him. “Where were you exactly a month ago at about 3 o’clock in the afternoon?” he asked calmly.

“I was here at the bar,” he said, then belched. Liam’s nose scrunched and he moved his face away from the smell.

“Why was there a receipt in that isolated building with your name on it?”

“I went in there a few weeks ago to check it out.”

“Do you have any witnesses that can say that you were here in this bar?” he asked. Zayn stopped pacing and stared him in the eyes.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I’m the one asking the questions, not you.”

Niall gulped. “Yeah, I was with my buddies. They’re in there right now. One of them has a tattoo of a ship on his bicep.” Zayn looked up at Liam.

“I doubt he’s going anywhere, I can handle it.” Liam raised his eyebrow, but he obliged and let go.

Niall fell to the ground and didn’t bother getting back up.

“God, you’re still the crazy bastard that I used to know and man, how it made me sweat,” he chuckled from the floor. Zayn wrinkled his nose.

Liam brought out a man with ridiculously curly brown hair. Zayn licked his lips, a habit that he had developed over the past month, and the man stopped next to Niall, bending over to help him up.

When Niall was up and leaning heavily against his friend’s shoulder, the man said, “Yes, I was here with Niall one month ago exactly. Is that all the information you need?”

“What’s your name?”

“The name’s Harry. Harry Styles. Anything else?” Zayn shook his head and with that, the man turned around with Niall still in tow and walked back to the bar.

Zayn blew the hair out of his eyes.

“We’re right back where we started,” he murmured, wanting to give up. He took Liam’s hand and Liam squeezed it in comfort.

“We’ll find him, Zayn. It’ll be okay,” he soothed. He gently pulled Zayn back towards the car and they both got in, Liam in the driver’s seat and Zayn in the passenger’s seat. Zayn gazed off moodily into the distance.

Suddenly a shout split the air and Zayn turned to see that Harry was coming up on his side of the car, breathing heavily.

“Wait, there’s something I gotta tell you,” he panted.

“What is it?”

“You know that one building that has a kind of ominous aura to it that’s a few miles away? A guy by the name of Ben Winston visits there at a certain time of the month, a certain day, and a certain hour.”

Zayn glanced over at Liam.

“I told Harry about what happened a month ago,” Liam shrugged. Zayn pushed the passenger door open, nearly hitting Harry in the face. He jumped out and grabbed Harry by the collar, staring him down.

“Tell me everything,” he demanded.

Harry’s facial expression didn’t change. “He goes there on the 17th of every month at 2:30 pm.”

Zayn let go of the man and checked his watch: 2 pm. Only half an hour left.

“Thank you for this information, but may I ask where you got it from?”

“I had a run-in with the same guy a few months ago and he flipped on me. When I came by a week later he wasn’t there. The rest of the story is not for your ears to hear.”

Zayn got back in the car and slammed the car door shut. He gripped his seat.

“Thank you, I’ll repay you somehow.”

Harry shrugged. “Nah, you really don’t need to. That guy needs to get the shit beaten out of him before he does it to anybody else.”

“Liam, let’s go. We have half an hour left before this Ben guy arrives at the building.” Zayn reached out and took Harry’s hand, giving it a firm shake and a nod of his head. Liam turned the key in the ignition and stepped on the gas. Zayn reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a gun.

_This may be needed._

\----

The door to the building slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. Liam snorted. “So much for sneaking in.”

Zayn used both hands to hold the gun. It felt odd. “What time is it?”

“It’s 2:28, so he should be here any minute,” Liam replied, checking his cell phone, “let’s go hide upstairs.”

Zayn sprinted up the stairs, stumbling on his way up, Liam following more slowly. The upstairs was surprisingly free of dirt and grime. Walking down the hallway, he stepped into a room that looked like it could be a potential bedroom. There was no furniture. The window was open and he could see down onto the gravel road. He saw a speck in the distance and when he narrowed his eyes, his heart picked up pace.

“There he is,” he whispered. A certain kind of high came over him and he licked at his lips, his body rigid.

He lost sight of the speck. His forehead creased. _Where did he go?_ “Liam,” he called out. No response. The complete silence in the room frightened him. Suddenly the white noise became muffled and he heard footsteps down the hallway. The footsteps stopped.

“Liam-?” He could feel the presence of something in the room and when he turned around, he came face-to-face with a man. The adrenaline faded away. The man’s face was completely void of all emotion.

“Would your name be Ben?” he asked. The man nodded and he moved forward.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to get out of my personal space.” Another step closer. He was only a few feet away from him.

“T-That doesn’t mean get closer,” his voice quavered this time.

_Dammit, don’t let him know how you really feel._

Ben’s mouth curled into a smile. To Zayn’s surprise, he had really nice teeth. In fact, the man himself was not that bad looking. Huh.

Ben’s attractiveness only made him feel more on edge, more ready to grab the gun from his back pocket and shoot him in the head. 

“I don’t believe that matters now since it’s just you and me,” he finally said. Zayn gulped. The voice was that of his assaulter. Then it hit him.

It was the same man that had tied him up before. _Of course, it all makes sense!_ Zayn thought. Zayn had broken into this man’s house without knowing that it belonged to anyone and this pervert, this Ben Winston, decided to take it upon himself to assault Zayn. 

“Are you doing this because I broke into your house?” Zayn asked, his voice betraying his fear, “Tell me.”

Ben placed a hand to his chest, as if shocked, but he did not say one word. That was when Ben’s previous words finally sunk in.

“Where’s Liam?”

Ben’s smile became manic. “Oh, he may or may not be dead,” he sang, his voice rising at the end of his sentence. Zayn’s eyes filled with tears.

“You’re lying!” Zayn’s voice cracked this time and the tears spilled over, running down his cheeks.

Ben shook his head. “No, I am not lying to you, my sweet. I may have given him a little treat for coming into my property and I think I’m going to have to give you the same. Well, I’m sure you know how it goes since I’ve given it to you once before. In fact, I may just give you an even better treat.” Zayn violently shook his head and took a step back.

Ben lunged. 

Zayn brought out the gun from his back pocket and shot him, right in the middle of his forehead. Blood began to spurt from the bullet wound and Ben’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He fell to the ground at Zayn’s feet, a pool of dark red liquid beginning to stain the floor as Ben Winston’s eyes glazed over and he stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Zayn watched as Ben Winston’s twitching finally ceased. Zayn’s hands shook.

“Like hell you are.”

\----

The funeral was held and nobody came. He had no family, no friends. The only person to attend the service was Zayn. He only stayed for a few minutes. He did not say anything, only stared at the dead body of Ben Winston.

The car he got into didn’t seem like his. It was also Liam’s and it didn’t feel right that Liam wasn’t there right beside him, whether it be in the driver’s or passenger’s seat. He patted the seat next to him and he leaned his head back on the head rest. Taking a deep breath, he brought his head back up and turned the key to drive home.

As soon as he stepped inside the house, he went to his bedroom that he shared with Liam and found him lying on the bed, asleep. Zayn smiled gently and walked over to the side he was on. He pushed his hair aside and kissed his forehead. The bruises on his face were starting to turn yellow and would soon fade. As Ben had said, the injuries that were inflicted upon Liam were much like his were, over a month ago.

Liam would heal, and so would Zayn.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this story in my harddrive while I was organizing it and I thought that I would go ahead and revamp it so this is the outcome. Detective AUs are so fucking cool.


End file.
